


The Greatest Gift of All

by Betray802



Category: Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-02
Updated: 2012-11-02
Packaged: 2017-11-17 15:11:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/552933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Betray802/pseuds/Betray802
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because I have an insatiable desire to 'fix' the unfixable, and I came into the Beauty and the Beast fandom by way of 'She's Not Dead' stories. A train wreck reveals the previously impossible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Greatest Gift of All

**Author's Note:**

> Part of this is piggy-backed of NotTasha's 'Tin', the rest is inspired by something Rowdy Tanner sent be about a pocket watch. (And my own ideas about the fate of *that* watch.)

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"Just before I go to sleep   
I hear a church bell   
Ring Merry Christmas everyone   
Is the song it sings so   
I say a silent prayer  
So I say a prayer  
For creatures great and small  
Peace on Earth good will   
To men is the   
Greatest gift of all."  
  
 _The Greatest Gift Of All_  
Kenny Rogers  
Dolly Parton  
 _Once Upon A Christmas_  
RCA 1984  
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 **Watson's Hardware  
4 Seventh Ave.  
** **Four Corners, New Mexico Territory**  
Friday 22 December 1882  


  
Buck Wilmington tipped his hat to Mrs. Potter as he held the door of Watson's Hardware for her. Though he was in a hurry -- considering what Monday would be, who wasn't? -- he still felt honor-bound to offer assistance.   
  
"Surely wouldn't mind carryin' some of those packages, Miss Gloria. Imagine they must be mighty heavy."  
  
Gloria gave him an _I'm on to you, mister_ look, and shook her head. "I do appreciate the offer, Buck, but I'm expecting Geoffrey -- "  
  
"Here I am, Ma." Geoffrey Potter materialized from around a corner, breathless from having run down the street from the mercantile to here.  
  
" -- any second." Gloria finished, laughing merrily. "He's a fine enough pack mule, and only slightly less stubborn. Will you and Mary be at the social tonight?"  
  
"With bells on, darlin'. You have a good day, now." Tipping his hat again, a nod to Geoffrey, and Buck continued inside. Virgil Watson stood behind his counter, looking like a tomcat with a mouthful of canary feathers and an empty saucer of cream at his feet. Sitting on the counter in front of him was an entirely nondescript brown paperboard box, small enough to disappear entirely when palmed by a man Buck's size. He slid the box across as Buck stepped up to the counter.  
  
"You've restored my faith in myself, Buck. When you brought it to me, I didn't think even the Lord could get this watch working again, but it's ticking along like Big Ben now." As Buck reached into his pocket, Virgil shook his head, "I'm almost ashamed to have to charge you for it."  
  
Buck grinned. "Now, Virgil, I'd never expect you to perform a sure-enough miracle like this for free. And when the person I'm givin' it to opens this box, it'll be worth a hundred times more." The two settled the transaction, exchanged some small talk and pleasantries, and then Buck took his leave, nodding to Ezra as they passed each other at the door. The Southerner looked more than a little frazzled.  
  
"Mr. Watson, while I willingly admit that it is no more than my richly deserved just desserts for leaving the matter this late, I find myself in quite the predicament. I require some good quality metal polish, and Mrs. Potter is entirely out. I kept meaning to have some ordered in, but, well, what with one thing or another ... " Ezra spread his hands in a helpless gesture. "The road to perdition is truly paved with good intentions."  
  
Virgil chuckled as he turned to scan the shelves behind the counter. "Mr. Standish, the way you boys have been going from pillar to post and back again these past few months, I'm surprised you haven't met yourselves coming and going, yet." He chuckled again at Ezra's crossly muttered, "I'm not entirely sure I haven't, to be perfectly honest with you." The bell over the door jingled again, and Ezra automatically glanced over his shoulder to check for a potential threat as Virgil stepped away to mutter himself, moving this item or that, in his search for a can of polish he was sure had just been there a moment ago. But the newcomer was no more than Mrs. Vance, a relative newcomer to the area. She and her family had relocated from J.D. Dunne's native Vermont earlier in the year, in hopes the drier climate would ease their youngest daughter's asthma. In point of fact, the Vances had been more than passing acquaintances with the young sheriff and his late mother, Mr. Vance being a breeder of prime Morgan horses, and therefore having conducted business with the owner of the estate where J.D. and his mother had lived and worked. At the moment, Mr. Vance had more interest in his horses than he had ability to fill orders. Nodding to Ezra's two-fingered tap of his hat brim, she began to peruse a display case of watches and small clocks.  
  
 "Aha!" Virgil exclaimed, snatching up a canister. "I knew it had to be here somewhere!" He returned to the counter, handing Ezra the canister, waiting as the gambler quickly read the label to make certain this was what he was after. He smiled as Ezra raised grateful eyes to the ceiling and reached into an inner pocket of his trademark red tailcoat.   
  
"Mr. Watson, you have single-handedly saved my holiday. Bless you." Ezra paid for his purchase, nodded respectfully to Mrs. Vance, and swept out again, whistling _God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen_ and looking quite a bit more merry himself. Virgil Watson smiled. This time of year, shopkeepers like himself and Gloria Potter became quite akin to members of the clergy. They knew everything that was going on in town, and told not a soul.  
  


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The first few years the Seven had spent Christmas in Four Corners, only J.D. Dunne and Josiah Sanchez had really paid much if any attention. Chris Larabee would pack enough whiskey to drown an elephant and vanish off to his shack until after the turn of the year. Nathan Jackson went out to the Seminole village to visit Rain, Vin Tanner vanished off to who-knew-where. Buck -- who couldn't _not_ watch after Chris whether the other man wanted it or not -- would occasionally see the tracker when he'd dare venture out to the shack to make sure Chris was at least still breathing. Other than that, Buck split his time between keeping watch on the town ... and _"sharing the holiday spirit,"_ with as many ladies as possible. Ezra Standish lived at his poker table, only grudgingly ceding to the requirements of sleep, sustenance, and his duties as peacekeeper.

Somewhere along the way, they'd cleared Vin's name, finally caught up with Ella Gaines, and somehow become respectable. Everyone had expected Nathan and Rain to marry, which they did after the town raised funds to build Nathan a proper clinic, with living quarters upstairs. Most folks had wondered if Inez Recillos would eventually end up with Ezra, or Vin. At least until the stage had pulled in three weeks after Vin's pardon went through, and _his wife and son_ had gotten off. The fact that Glory Tanner was also Buck's long-lost daughter Thaddea had almost come as an afterthought. When Vin had been forced out of Texas, Glory and Waylon had fled to New Orleans, where she had taken a position as maid in the household of a retired fencing instructor -- one of the _maitres des armes_ who had seen their way of life vanish in the gunsmoke of the Civil War. The former swordsman had helped Glory's younger brother Judgement find employment at a shipping company, and youngest sister Honora a position as a companion to an elderly widow, a friend to all the sword masters -- who had not always been considered 'respectable' by the standards of New Orleans society.

For his part, Judgement had ended up marrying none other than Kate Stokes! After losing her _"shack in a weed patch,"_ to the banker she swore was a worse robber than Jesse James had ever dreamt of being, Kate had drifted to New Orleans, finding her way to a position as a secretary at the shipping firm. Being neither blind nor stupid -- it was impossible to look at Judgement and not realize who his father had to be -- Kate had put him off for months, until the wife of Glory's boss had finally pinned her down and dragged the whole story out of her. After that, all Judgement had to do was be himself. Upon arrival in Four Corners, Kate had made a point of staying away from J.D. Dunne and Casey Wells -- not an easy task, considering everything. It had fallen to Casey to take a page out of her aunt's book and confront Kate directly. Neither woman would admit what had happened or was said, but Kate no longer walked out of a room, just because J.D. walked in.

Buck's marriage to Mary Travis had stunned almost everyone, but nobody could doubt Buck's devotion. Especially after he'd risked death or prison to bring Mary's attempted murderer to justice. The bank being held up had been a smokescreen -- the target had been Mary, the killer's client none other than her own father. Mary was the only child of a ruthless Baltimore lawyer, who didn't take kindly to defiance. Mary had run away to marry Stephen Travis, hoping Orrin's position would keep her safe. And it had, until the story Mary wrote about the capture, trial and hanging of Ella Gaines had garnered national attention. Dougal Kenton had sent his personal private detective to search Mary out, then hired an assassin. Three bullets had lodged frightfully close to Mary's heart, and it had taken every ounce of Nathan's skill to remove them. The realization that Mary was already carrying Buck's child hadn't come until two weeks _after_ the operation. Nathan had suffered a thousand agonies until the successful birth of Sarah Anne Wilmington. When she began hitting 'milestones' much faster than Mary swore Billy ever had, Nathan had finally allowed himself to breathe. Chris -- who had prayed he'd never have occasion to repay the loyalty Buck had shown him after his own tragedy -- had followed Buck clear back to Baltimore to find Dougal Kenton and drag him back to Four Corners to hang. For his part, Billy had readily accepted Buck as his stepfather, reasoning that he could keep Chris as a _friend_ , removing the gunslinger of the responsibility of ever having to discipline him.

It had been Buck and Mary's near disaster that had finally lit a fire under Ezra, and a scant three days after they'd disassembled the gallows, he'd proposed to Inez. When she'd eagerly agreed, Ezra had done something that had surprised even Chris. He'd willingly wired Maude to ask her to attend his wedding. With the railroad running through to Yuma, Arizona, Maude had purchased a ticket, thrilled that she could now travel to see Ezra _"like a civilized person."_

So much for civilization. J.D. had been on morning patrol the day Maude was due to arrive, and had just stuck his head into the station to chat with John Michaelson, the towering stationmaster. Their conversation had been interrupted by a frantic wire from Malloy's Crossing, three stops back up the line -- the train had just blown through at full speed, never slowing down. A second wire from Summervale, between Malloy's Crossing and Eagle Bend, alerted that the sides of the locomotive were _"Glowing visibly red."_ Eagle Bend reported the passenger cars were rocking side to side. Nobody needed to guess what would happen at the sweeping curve the track was forced to take to go around the rock formation known as Graison Mesa, that most engineers took as the signal to begin reducing speed for the approach into Four Corners. At the first warning from Malloy's Crossing, Chris was already marshaling a response, hoping against hope to be waiting at Graison Mesa before the wreck occurred.

The sound had been deafening, and was heard as far away as Purgatorio. Predictably, the train hadn't made the curve, jumping the tracks to plow straight ahead over the rocky, uneven terrain around what Josiah was certain was an ancient volcanic formation. As long as it wasn't planning to erupt again on his watch, Chris had been happy to leave the place alone, assigning it no more importance than knowing it was important to Kojay's people, and therefore heeding Vin's admonishment never to go hunting near it.

They hadn't quite made it before the wreck -- upon their arrival, some people had already begun rescuing themselves and each other. The locomotive, tender, baggage and mail cars were toppled on their sides, the locomotive glowing as red as Ezra's coat. By the grace of God, it was late July, and the individual coal stoves in the cars were unlit, else the whole train would have been engulfed. Tiny the blacksmith, Yosemite the hostler and John Michaelson had applied themselves to moving as much coal out of the tender and away from the red-hot engine as possible. Venturing inside to retrieve the undoubtedly deceased engineer and fireman was unthinkable. J.D. had sent Geoffrey Potter straight back to town to have wires sent, so other trains could be stopped.

They found Maude readily enough, shaken but unhurt, and already engaged in keeping the women and children together, taking down names, ages, who had been traveling with who, intended final destinations and who if anyone might be waiting there, or back home. The men had left Casey and Inez with her, and began assisting the rescue. It was impossible to separate one car from the next, they'd telescoped together until what may have been three or four cars were crushed into a space the size of one. The carnage within had been unspeakable. But within the destruction, some had yet survived. Within the destruction, Chris Larabee had found a miracle.

Back in a third class car that had toppled off the track, but hadn't telescoped into the car ahead of it, or been telescoped by the baggage and freight cars behind. Rain -- who knew that the black, Indian, Mexican and Chinese passengers would be kept as far to the back of the train as possible, and would have the least care and attention paid them -- hadn't been expecting to find _a white woman and three white children_ in the car, a boy in his early teens and one-of-each twins of roughly five or six. Sorley McReilly was the master of the kitchen at the Diamond Hotel, and had told Rain that the white family had likely been forced to the back of the train by the woman's distinctive Irish accent. "There's those who don't see any difference between a bog Irish lad from County Cork, and a black Seminole lass from the American Territories, Miss Rain. They'd make John Daniel sit back here, star on his shirt or no, simply for having a last name like Dunne." He'd offered to escort the family to the wagons waiting to take the least-injured passengers back to to town, while Rain stayed to continue her intended task. Accepting the white woman's thanks, Rain had sent them off, not giving it another thought.

Until she heard Buck Wilmington shout **_"Lord God Almighty!"_** Rain had spun about just in time to see the stunned expression on Chris's face as he crushed the woman in his arms, the older of the boys hanging on to both of them. Having of course heard the story of Chris's tragedy from Nathan, she knew immediately who the woman and her children had to be. Knew why Ella Gaines had gone to the gallows smiling. The final secret, her final power over Chris. Rain considered herself to be mostly a peaceable woman, rarely choosing to attack unprovoked. But in that moment, she found herself wishing Ella back to life, if only to kill her again. And nothing so neat and tidy as a hanging, no. This time, she'd be killed the Indian way.

It was Adam who directed them to the baggage car, swearing he'd seen a young boy stowing away. Close enough to overhear, Maude claimed she'd also seen the child, offered to buy him a ticket, "I don't know what came over me." Vin had led the way to the car, which had derailed and toppled on one side, crosswise to the tracks. Being directly behind the tender, it was already burning by the time they got there. Worse, it had fallen onto the door side. "We need an axe over here!" Chris had hollered, and someone had come running with one, which Buck took command of. J.D., Vin and Ezra were banging on the walls of the car, calling halloos. "He's here!" J.D. had called, at the very back of the car away from the flames. Buck hurried over, asking the stowaway where his head was, so Buck wouldn't just swing the axe right into it. He hadn't expected a choked-off sob and a tear-filled "Buck? Buck, it's me. Olivia."

Olivia Greer. They'd all but given up hope. Terry had remarried, only to be brutally murdered by 'night riders,' the leader of whom had recognized Terry's new husband as his half brother -- the son of his father's slave mistress, passing himself off as white. Unfortunately for Canfield Addison Dalston III, he also counted among his cousins one Ezra P. Standish, who swore Canfield's initials were more than apt. Ezra had given Vin free rein to use any and everything he'd learned from the Comanche to force a confession from Canfield, but the man swore to his last breath that while he'd seen Olivia with Terry and her new stepfather, she very mysteriously hadn't been in the house when the riders had arrived. Going back to the scene, Vin had discovered what he was sure had once been a basket in the charred remains of the henhouse. J.D. had found the bootprints next to the recently hatched turtle nest in the creek bank nearby. Pieced together, they determined that Olivia had been sent out to gather eggs, and had sneaked away to see if the turtles had hatched, perhaps intending to capture one as a pet. Further examining the area around the nest, Vin could see where Olivia had crouched in terror, watching as her world was destroyed. Splitting up, the men had gone up and down the creek as far as they could, questioning anyone they encountered. The answer was always the same. Yes, most folks remembered Olivia easily enough -- the invariable response described her as _"awfully clever, a real taking little thing,"_ \-- but no, nobody had seen her. It had been Vin of all people who proposed putting out a want on her. "'Livia only knows one way t'make money. Folks'll remember bein' fleeced by a kid."

It had actually been easier to find Ella. How could one little girl disappear so completely off the face of the world? Because it had never occurred to them to also search for _Oliver_. With her hair chopped short and britches in place of skirts, with a hat tugged down low to mostly hide her elfin face and an oversize jacket making her look at least a little bigger than she really was, Olivia disappeared entirely. Even Chris was surprised by the transformation. "I'da walked right past you. I honestly would have."

Her pitiful carpet bag had been utterly crushed, along with what few worldly possessions she had to her name. Most of it she'd shrugged off, saying only that there hadn't been much to start with, and smiling at Ezra's "As if she'll want for anything I can reasonably provide!" But there had been a moment of panic as she'd upended the thing and discovered Buck's silver pocket watch ... gone. By the time she'd realized that, the baggage car was fully aflame, and it had taken quick action on Josiah's part to hold a suddenly hysterical Olivia back. The contents of the carpet bag had scattered as far as a terrified little girl could throw them, as she desperately searched for the watch. "It was right here, I just had it, it was right here." Buck was just about to holler "Olivia, I can buy a new watch! There's only one of you!" when she suddenly came up with a ragged drawstring sack, made out of a lilac and rose calico. Looking at it, Chris could well imagine it was the last scraps of the dress Olivia had been wearing, the day Terry had been killed. Standing in the detritus of her old life, Olivia handed the sack up to Buck. "It doesn't work anymore, but here. I meant to give it back to you." Buck had graciously pocketed the sack, then all but hugged Olivia flat.

Pulling Adam closer, Chris thought of the tin star he'd once made, that had hung over the door of the boy's old bedroom. He'd found it in the ashes, still warm to the touch. Cleaned it and kept it with him, tacking it up over the door of what he'd called a _cabin_ and Vin had called a _shack_ \-- _"I seed cabins, Cowboy."_ Vin had been right, but Chris would never tell him that. A twister had demolished it, anyway, and Chris had sold the land to a young newlywed couple, moving entirely to his room in town. He'd searched through what wreckage the twister had left him, finally accepting the star was irrevocably lost. Now here was Adam, and he'd have to answer for that star.

As for the train, a conductor lived long enough to report that the engineer had been complaining since the mid-May of intermittent chest pains. Once the locomotive cooled enough to be approached -- helped along by three days of fortuitous heavy rains -- the man's remains had been discovered slumped over the throttle. The fireman's body was found toward the back, with a deep gash in the back of his head. Nathan guessed the engineer had suffered a heart attack and fallen over the throttle. The fireman had fallen back, cracking his head open on something or another within the cab. Whether he'd been killed directly by the blow to the head, or died in the overheating of the locomotive could never be determined.

One room at a boarding house was no place for a family of five, but Sarah, Adam and twins Mark and Laureen had become accustomed to living in town. Four Corners had grown in the years since the Seven had arrived, going from one north-south street and two east-west spurs to five north-south streets and four east-west streets, with at least a dozen spurs continually growing in as many directions. Vin had retrieved the money he'd made bounty hunting -- and there was quite a bit more to that than anyone had anticipated, looking at how close to the bone he lived -- and built a small house at the far southern end of Main Street, the original north-south track. His old rattletrap covered wagon held sentinel in the back yard, now mostly the province of young Waylon Tanner.

Chris had followed Vin's example -- after discovering a sudden dearth of already-constructed buildings in town for sale -- and purchased a lot on the south end of "Seventh Avenue." It had gained the name due to being the old east-west spur the Saloon was on, which remained the first place folks looked if they needed to find one of the Seven. He hadn't been expecting **_the entire damn community_** to pitch in and help him build the place. Every shopkeeper and business owner in town had donated, gifted, refused to charge for, charged at a significant discount and loss or just plain outright _**gave**_ them goods and services. It had achieved what Sarah declared 'habitable,' within a week of Chris having the lot staked out. There was now a movement afoot to have Seventh Avenue renamed "Larabee Avenue," which Chris was fighting tooth and nail. Each of the men had hosted gatherings at one time or another, but the Larabee home stood witness more of these events than the other six put together. Chris swore it had nothing to do with the fact that Sarah -- once the other women had brought her up to speed as to how matters stood -- had purposefully designed the place to hold that many people, while still remaining intimate enough for a family.

But the biggest surprise had been Maude. Though she strove to maintain "appearances" by remaining unflappable in public, privately the train wreck had scared her badly. As the days turned into a week, and the weeks into three months and more, it began to seem as if Maude had no intention of moving on this time. She'd actually been involved in some honestly legitimate business ventures -- "Really, Mr. Larabee. Anyone in my line of work has at least one or two safety nets, as a hedge against lean times." -- and had enough money to support herself for some time. One day Ezra came into the Saloon, flopped down in his chair at the Seven's table, and announced that Maude had bought old Widow Mathison's place and moved out of the hotel -- the aging widow having decided to relocate to an adult daughter's home in Santa Fe. By that time, it had also become clear that Maude was becoming more and more receptive to Josiah's attentions. The pair of them had completely upended Thanksgiving dinner by announcing their betrothal, and plans to marry by February, at the absolute latest. The lot immediately south of the church -- which had quite mysteriously remained empty all these years -- shortly contained a modest two-story house. Any attempts Ezra might have made at protest were quashed without mercy or remorse by Inez and Olivia, who had readily accepted being adopted by the gambler. When the owner of the shopfront next to Widow Mathison's died suddenly, Maude snapped up the property. With some clever remodeling, the two buildings were combined into a coffeehouse and bookstore, under the management of one Sarah Larabee! The one time Chris had tried to growl a promise to Ezra about the potential consequences, should Sarah come to woe while in business with Maude, he came home to a succinct reminder of the fair side of his wife's Irish temper! He'd been so intent on delivering the warning to Ezra, he hadn't even considered checking on the whereabouts of Olivia beforehand, and she'd carried the news to Sarah as if she'd sprouted wings on her feet.

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**Chris & Sarah's**  
16 Seventh Ave.  
Four Corners, NM Terr.  
Monday 25 December 1882  
Christmas Day

"We put one more person in here, the walls will burst out and drop the roof on our heads."

"Hush, you." Chris smiled at Sarah's teasing admonition to his half-hearted complaint. It had become tradition for each family to hold their private celebration on Christmas Eve -- after the town social and Josiah's church service -- then gather on Christmas Day for the group party. Before the miraculous return of Sarah, Adam and the twins to the fold, they'd just taken over the Saloon for the day, getting around the handful of grizzled old salts who never left the place by simply including them in the festivities. Olivia had even begun calling the men _"Uncles Who, Which, Whatsit, Why, Where and Whenever."_ Chris had been shocked to learn that all six of the men had voluntarily pooled their money and taken themselves to the bathhouse, each man choosing his best -- or at least, his least raggedy, least mismatched -- set of clothes to take the Chinese laundry. Why, they'd even gone to the barber! Sarah had a heart as big as the sky, and couldn't bear to see anyone alone, especially at the holidays. Chris swore she'd cooked enough to more than comfortably support Sherman's Army. The presents ranged from practical to amusing to touching -- to as risque as the presence of women and children would allow them to get away with. (Anything that might truly cause scandalized modesty was exchanged privately in the week or so leading up to Christmas, in the Saloon or the Jail or out on patrol.)

The only practical way to feed so many people, Sarah had decided, was to set up a buffet-style meal, and let everyone sit where they pleased. Chris had spent weeks of free time using his woodworking skills to make enough individual tray tables to go around. They were lingering over the amazing variety of cakes and pies when Buck abruptly cleared his throat and stood. "Excuse me, if I could have everyone's attention, please? I've got one last gift to give. Where's Olivia gone to?" Across the room, Olivia's tawny head came up and around, a curious look on her face. She, Adam, Waylon, Honora and Billy had repaired to the floor by the fireplace, to sort their way through a game Vin had given his son, involving moving small painted stones around a board with several round depressions ordered in rows. Vin had remembered playing it as a child living with the Comanche, and had reproduced it as faithfully as his memory had allowed. Olivia scrambled up and came forward. Inez had performed magic to fashion a silk purse out of a sow's ear, turning the hatchet job Olivia had done on her hair into something presentable, that flattered her still too-thin face. For the party, she'd wound several small silk flowers through it, furthering the image of a woodland sprite caught in the world of mortals. Chris thought it suited Olivia's uncanny ability to disappear utterly from sight, reappearing several blocks from the scene of whatever mischief she'd committed, innocent as a kitten. Buck held out a small box, wrapped in gold paper and tied with a silver ribbon. "I think you'd best find yourself a place to sit before you open it, little darlin'."

The love seat Ezra and Inez were sharing was mere steps away, and Inez slid over to accommodate Olivia's presence. Turning the box a time or two to admire the paper and ribbons, Olivia carefully opened it, so the paper might be used for another purpose, rather than merely being shredded and tossed aside. The box was plain, heavy paperboard, a base and lid. Inside ... Olivia's eyes flew to Buck's face as Ezra caught his breath, her eyes suddenly seeming to take up half her face. With a shaking hand, Olivia pulled up the silver pocket watch, now cleaned and repaired. Chris could see something engraved on the back, but couldn't read what it was from where he was. Buck smiled indulgently. "Now I'm _givin' it to you_." He laughed as Olivia launched herself across the room, sweeping her up into a bear hug. Settling her against his left hip, he beamed as she examined the watch. "I can't believe it works again!" She turned it over to read the inscription etched into the back.

Bucklin Thomas Wilmington  
Olivia Rowena Greer-Standish  
Monday December 25 1882  
When I See This World  
I Think About You

Completely overcome, Olivia wrapped her arms around Buck and just held on. Around the room, husbands pulled wives closer, parents glanced over to check on children, and all six of Olivia's 'Saloon Uncles' suddenly found reason to retrieve their handkerchiefs from their back pockets. Carrying Olivia back over to Ezra and Inez, Buck gently deposited her back on the love seat. Ezra looked up him with a somewhat rueful look in his eyes.

"It seems you and I have had something of the same idea, Mr. Wilmington. I do hope you will not believe I am attempting to upstage you. I, too, have one last gift to bestow, and amazingly enough, it possesses an uncannily similar story."

Buck gave him a considering look. "Friday afternoon, when we passed goin' in and out of Watson's." He grinned at Ezra's nod. "I don't think you're tryin' to upstage me, Ezra." He stepped back several paces, then made a sweeping gesture. "I graciously cede the floor, Mr. Standish."

Ezra gave a delighted laugh as he retrieved a box he'd stashed away in an inner pocket of his pine green tailcoat. Flat and square, it was wrapped in what looked like dark blue velvet embossed with a starry pattern and shot through with silver thread, with a bow made of gold silk embroidery thread, elaborately braided. Ezra looked over at the fireplace. "Adam?"

Adam's face was even more surprised than Olivia's had been, as he stood and walked over to the love seat. Thirteen, he was becoming gangly, beginning to lose track of where the ends of himself were, a condition accentuated by the fact he was leaner than a desert sapling. Sarah had gone without to feed him -- and there'd been little enough to her to begin with! -- and he'd turned right around to give his food to Mark and Laureen. Receiving the box with a small bow and a "Thank you, Uncle Ezra," Adam held it up to admire the wrapping.

"I should repeat Mr. Wilmington's warning to Olivia. You may well wish to sit down." Adam nodded and smiled, crossing the room to the sofa where his parents were. Chris reached over to pull Laureen into his lap as Sarah shifted over, making just enough room for Adam to sit next to his mother. Turning the box to locate where to begin unwrapping, Adam chuckled as he discovered the velvet was held in place with a silver button in the shape of a star. Under the velvet and silk was a polished ebony box, with a shooting star mosaic of multicolored glass inlaid on the cover, and a silver latch. For a long moment, all Adam could do was sit and stare, before finally recovering his voice. "Uncle Ezra, this ... this may be the finest thing I've ever seen in my life. Thank you."

"A humble enough vessel for what it contains, I assure you. Please, open it."

He very nearly dropped it, did in fact bobble it twice. Sarah gave an amazed cry as Chris turned stunned eyes at Ezra.

"I was on patrol one day, and happened upon some of the wreckage of what had been your former domicile. Part of it was the doorframe, including the lintel. I'd been meaning to return it to you, but we became so caught up in one thing and another and another after that, and as soon as I'd remember again, it never seemed like the right time. Then the train wreck happened, and I asked Mr. Wilmington if we'd missed Adam's birthday. When he replied in the affirmative, the only thing left was to wait until Christmas." He gave a small, self-deprecating laugh, accompanied by a shake of his head. "I very nearly left it too long. If Mr. Watson had not sold me what surely must have been the last canister of metal polish between here and St. Louis, I'd have had to return it to its rightful owner in the condition in which I found it."

With a hand that he thought should have been shaking a great deal more than it was, Adam reached into the box, and from a lining of the same dark blue star-embossed velvet the box had been wrapped in pulled out ... a simple star, cut out of tin. With a sharp intake of breath, Buck sat down hard. He remembered the night it had been made, remembered Chris finding it in the ashes of the ranch house, still warm to the touch. Remembered seeing it over the door of Chris's shack -- and in mind of the confrontation between himself and Chris at the barber's that first day -- had chosen to hold his silence. After the twister and Chris's sale of the land, he'd just been so damn glad the twister had only taken the shack and not Chris along with it, that he'd completely forgotten the tin star. And all of a sudden, Adam was jumping out of his seat, turning to look at Chris.

" _This_ is what's been missing from my room! Something's just never felt ... _right_ , I guess you could call it -- and I could never seem to figure out what it was! And it's been this! My star wasn't there!"

Chris chuckled, shaking his head as he moved his tray table aside and shifted Laureen off his lap. "Hammer's in the toolshed, should be a box of tacks or small nails right close." Chuckling again as Adam spun about to tear headlong out of the room, down the hall and out the back door. No doubt the interior of that toolshed would _look_ like the aftermath of a twister. In the silence, he looked at Ezra, who raised one hand in a placating gesture.

"To say anything more, Mr. Larabee, would be gilding the lily. The look on his face when he opened the box is all I require."

Adam was back in moments with the hammer and nails, and the whole collected company trooped up the stairs to watch as Chris found a short stool in the spare room he hadn't yet told even Buck he was fitting out as a nursery, and brought it to the doorway of Adam's room. He handed the hammer back to Adam. "Your room, your star. You tack it up there." He stood back, pulling Sarah close to his side as Adam put the star in its rightful place. As he stood back to admire it, they could hear carolers out on the street. Mark dashed across to the window -- Adam having claimed one of the front rooms, Mark the other, and Laureen between Mark and the master suite, which took up the entire back section of the second floor -- and throwing it open. Sweeping Laureen into his arms, Adam stepped up behind Mark. The others went back downstairs, to give the family a moment of privacy.

"He's right, you know," Sarah spoke quietly, so only Chris could hear. "I was in here a few days ago, and I couldn't help but think _what's not right here?_ And for the life of me, I couldn't guess what it was. It was the star."

"Oh, Adam, look!" Laureen exclaimed. "A shooting star! Make a wish!"

Adam laughed, hugging her closer. "There's nothing left to wish for, Laurie. I have everything I could ever possibly want."


End file.
